It’s a bit like a curse for any traveller, isn’t it? Scattering your crushes like you’d do with pins on a world map.

My love is a wanderer.

~ It’s all over the floor of this Kiwi guy’s Parisian apartment, where I used to roam bare feet.

It’s expanding a bit to Ho Chi Minh, sparkling in the moon pictures that this romantic Sicilian guy keeps on sending to me.

It’s nested into this origami this Italian guy put into his wallet before departing.

Bits of it were spread into those travellers’ pockets in New Zealand, those travellers I lost track of.

And this time, I left its sweet scent on this Israeli’s scarf in Kyoto.

My love is a rubber band.

~ My curse is making my head spin out of vertigo.

I fall in love every four mornings and no matter which borders I go through, you’ll have some sweets to take away. I promise this carry on is tax-free.

My love is an omiyage.

A morning in Matsumoto.

~ My feelings are scattering with the changing of the seasons. Flying away to the four winds like the fragile cherry tree’s petals, they’re swirling and whirling and end up on the ground, like this red Autumn’s foliage.

Those seasons are playing with me, carrying away my magic, my dances, my romances in my sweet nostalgia before the next great looping.

My love is a rollercoaster.

~ I’m often waiting for that green light, that next train departing for another mechanical lift up to the top that’s going to kick my shoes away, ignite myself like the first time, with that dizzy taste of vertigo in my mouth.

A former bookseller, who couldn’t get enough of pictures and paper dreams. Retrained as a Travel Agent, who couldn’t get enough of new travel inspirations. Retrained as a novice adventurer. Novice Adventurer since 2015 in New Zealand, Japan, Bali, Singapore and Taiwan. I caught the travel bug and I won’t stop anytime soon.